


Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore

by Enigma_IM



Category: Monster Girls | Monster Boys, Original Work, exophilia - Fandom, teratophilia - Fandom
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Misguided views of masculinity, Monster POV, Werewolf Mates, soft boy we don't deserve, soulmate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:21:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25074541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enigma_IM/pseuds/Enigma_IM
Summary: A Werewolf finds her mate during school, it’s not what she expected in a mate.
Relationships: Monster/human - Relationship, werewolf/ male human
Kudos: 26





	Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore

**Author's Note:**

> I was watching a youtube video on feminist vs men's rights and one of the ladies mentioned how women need to do their part for toxic masculinity. which got me thinking about how do women mess with men's views of what it means to be a man. like some women belittle men who are scared of something or aren't muscular. it's quite rude. of course, not all women but those few still play a part in a man's ideals. some men are scared of bugs and that's ok. 
> 
> also had a conversation online with someone who says "the true measure of a man is when he lost his virginity" and that was the stupidest thing I've ever heard. a true man is measured on how they treat the people he cares about not if he got his dick wet. how fucking stupid.

It starts in the commons room. The smell of autumn, just near Halloween. Crisp, clean air- though it's a little more than that. Like a pumpkin pie baking in the oven while the October breeze blows through the open windows. It's comforting, the aroma bringing nothing but contentment. Makes me wanna find the source and snuggle up under a blanket near it. I have never had such a smell rest in my lungs like this. Every part of my body feels alive with ever inhale.

It fades during first period but comes back around during lunch. I try to ignore it, conversing with friends as a distraction, but it's very persuasive in it's lingering. I begin to grow anxious as the day continues, bouncing my leg during class while biting my fingers. All of me wants to jump up and run about till I find it. I nearly do just that before the bell rings.

Final period is when it’s the strongest. It's almost suffocating in a mouth-watering way. I take in greedy breaths as I lounge against my chair in civics class. I lazily look around the room, feeling like a basking cat in the warm rays of the sun. my eyes stutter over some gent resting in the front row. Lanky, black hair, average style, completely unremarkable. Though his plainness does nothing to deter me.

I study him, picking apart every detail as he demands my attention. I look at his black curly hair, visions of running my fingers through it rush my head. I can almost feel the strands slipping over my knuckles. Feel the tug of minuscule tangles on my digits. The thought is jarring.

My body feels excited looking at him, practically giddy looking at this lad. I want to walk over and talk to him, what I wouldn't give to hear him speak. I bet he has a deep voice, a rich bass. I get my chance when he is called on by the teacher, answering their question with that satisfying octave. I almost purr at its all-encompassing embrace.

I don’t know what this man is doing to me but it seems I could care less. His presence- though not near enough- is all too comforting. I try to think about it but my brain rolls in oxytocin, ladling cups full over itself every time he talks.

The bell ringing is a startling sound. I jump, hitting my knee against my table with a loud thud. People barely pay mind as they gather their things to leave. A friend eyes me with a knowing grin. Still trying to catch up with how class felt only ten minutes long I just regard them confused.

"So you found them," they ask.

"What?"

They scoff," Your mate, you found them? Or perhaps you have some of the good stuff and your holding out on me."

I scoff along with them, utterly confused," What are you going on about, Patrick?"

"Are you joshing me right now," he gawks," You are sitting there high as a kite on the smell of your mate. I've seen that exact look on my brother when he found his at a wedding we went to for another friend." my mind flows with thoughts, trying to delay the inevitable. It all fit together once he said it. Mate. That plain Jane sitting in front of the class is supposed to be my mate. A nerdy, lanky, pasty teen that could never keep up with the likes of me. Hell, he is just some human! How could some weak boy be paired with someone like me? I was meant to have a big powerful man. A body that oozes power, a stature that demands attention. I deserve a man, not a boy.

Patrick rattles on about heaven know what while I deny everything my body is telling me. I come up with every excuse in the book till I label every reaction to something ridiculous. With too much ire is shoot out of my seat and storm off to my car. I need to clear my head for a while.

The week fills with intoxicating scents and denial. It's extremely frustrating talking in circles with myself about something I feel is already dealt with. He is nothing to me, simple as that. He could never be on my level and clearly a handicap in any relationship we may have. As clear a stop my decision is it has a tendency to come full circle when I catch a whiff or see him in the halls. God, that smell will always make my heart swell and my mind melt.

One day that poor lad talks to me, asking a simple enough question about an assignment. The words that spilled from my mouth tasted bitter before they left the tip of my tongue. In some sort of crude about way I answer him defensively, projecting my inner turmoil into hateful words. From strangers to more in just a few words. Someone I deemed nothing to me became a victim to my ire. I began bulling the lanky teen.

I hated myself every time I spat hateful slurs or punishing quips at him. Not even in a heartfelt way but in a way that I disrespected someone on any level. I was harsh in my everyday life, it tends to come with the territory, but I was never mean for the sake of being mean. That exactly what I'm doing, spewing my anger of the situation to someone that despite everything didn't deserve it.

I find out through the week that his name is Lance, a straight-A, gym hating, bug fearing, nerdy teen. He is nice to everyone he meets and has taken to socializing himself up the high school popularity ladder. No one took advantage of him and treated him well enough. Despite his deep love for all thing fantasy he was never ridiculed for it, he was just too sweet to tease. With that, I become to school bitch. Oh, the irony.

"Alright, I can’t take it. Why are you so closed off lately," Patrick asks. I stop glaring out at the tree line and turn towards him. I see my reflection in his sunglasses, hating to see how casually I look lounging back against the picnic table.

"What," I feign ignorance. Patrick huffs, turning away to also lounge against the picnic table.

"For someone who found their soulmate you are being an emotionally unavailable bitch. Hell, you are teasing that poor Lance dude from algebra. Like, what in god's name did he do to you?"

I stiff at the mention of Lance, balling my fist and biting my cheek. "Why don't we talk about something else?"

"For what? I'm tired of this, what happened? Did your mate reject you? Is this why you are being a class A bitch? If so, I'm here to listen. It can be painful to know your mate doesn't want you. If you like I can go kick their ass, show em what's what," Patrick rambles. In his wrong assumption, he does strike a chord with me. I finally acknowledge this from Lance's view.

Startled in my new line of thought I rise from my seat and walk back inside. Patrick sits up, watching me go, but does nothing else.

I walk all the way to the library, resting in some off corner to stew in my developing views. I never realized how Lance may be feeling, well besides how it feels to be bullied. I already felt like trash but its way worse now. Lance may not be able to tell like I can what we mean to each other but humans tend to have a sense about these things. How he must feel to have this strange pull to me that results in constant berating. It's easier for me to cast him aside not knowing what his feelings may be. I feel even worse now.

I startle when I feel a tear roll down my face, the weeks worth of frustration finally wrenching free from my chest. Where one tear rolls, another follows. Soon I'm balling into my forearms while I scrunch up in the corner. It hurts knowing I'm hurting my mate. It hurts thinking about how he must feel, viewing me as this monster I surely am. It hurts knowing how superficial I've been.

Lance, he proved himself to be quiet adept at being a social butterfly, showing great compassion and worth in his daily actions. Not being a typical man, showing off his strength and wealth, but being a real man. He is caring and opens with his fellow students, not leaving anyone behind. Hell, I've even seen him tutor some of the tennis players during lunch. He is just a good guy.

My ear ringing from my realization of ideocracy that I don't hear the quiet taps of shoes on tile. I jump when I feel a hand rest on my shoulder. I bolt upright staring up at the beautiful brown eyes of Lance.

Stubbornly I wipe my tears away," What do you want?" he seems to struggle with his answer, perhaps debating on high tailing it out of here. He settles on squatting down and sitting in front of me.

"I heard sniffling, I got curious," he answers as he rests his arms on his knees. I admire him for a moment. He is so adorable. I always imagined my mate to be drop-dead sexy and droll worthy but Lance isn't that. He is just…cute.

"Well, sorry for being too loud then," I begin to stand," I'll just be on my way then."

Lance raises a hand, stopping me, "No! please, what's wrong?" I glare at his extended hand, viewing all my options for the moment. My body screams to stay, keep close to my mate, but my brain shouts run.

I settle back down.

"What's wrong? Why were you crying," he asks with his well known sympathetic eyes.

I scoff, turning away," Why should it matter? I can't imagine you are too eager to have a heart to heart with your bully."

"Actually, I feel that would be the number one person I'd love to have a heart to heart with," he tries to catch my eyes. I side glance him but hold firm.

"Well, don't expect that here. I was just having a bad day," I brush him off though the truth rests firmly on the tip of my tongue.

"Well then, tell me about it," he gives a quick smile. My heart flutters, my eyes trail over his lips. I find myself in a bit of a trance.

"I realized something I did wrong," I answer vaguely.

"What did you do wrong?"

"I hurt someone I should care about."

"that happens sometimes. What are you going to do about it?"

"I'm not sure, I feel I fucked up big time," as I answer I can feel the skin on my spine tighten.

"Well, I know the best place to start is with 'I'm sorry' then go from there. Who did you hurt, if you don't mind sharing?"

I open my mouth to answer, the words 'you' almost slipping from my lips. As I sit across from him I can feel the telltale signs of morphing. My nails prick at my palms and I feel my ears part my hair as they stretch. My clothes feel tight as I enlarge. I hardly notice it over the view of him lounging casually across from me. Looking at him feels like a lock is being opened. Almost in a snap, a whimper leaves my throat and tears run down my cheeks.

"I'm sorry," I hiccup. I quickly fold in half over my legs, clenching at my chest as my back feels like it's tearing. I whimper some more as my clothes tear. I faintly hear Lance gasp over my rushing feelings.

Soon I find myself clawing at the tiled floor on all fours. I snap my eyes up to a surprisingly kept together Lance. Meeting his eyes I let lose another whimper, digging my nails into the tiles. Lance tilts his head, looking sympathetically at me before opening his arms. Quickly I flop down onto his lap, my head pressed against his stomach, claws scratching at his back. He rests his arms over my shoulders, petting along my spine as I whimper and whine.

"It's ok," he coos," I'm not mad." I cry out, clutching at his clothes knowing I'm probably ripping his jacket. It's a relief to hear those words but god it feels like I don't deserve them. He comforts and coos, letting me tire myself out.

I soon settle enough to revert to human -well, mostly human. I still keep the long teeth and pointed ears, even some sprouts of hair. I turn in his lap, rest my back to the floor to look up at him. Lance removes his jacket, draping it over my modesty. Covering the shredded clothes and revealed skin. He then meets my eyes with a cocked brow, asking without words.

I don't answer, instead of raising a hand to cup his cheek. I feel the heat and slight stubble on my palm.

"You seem pretty relaxed for someone who had a werewolf in their lap," I try to joke. It's enough for him to huff in amusement. 

"It's not the first time," he answers. I read too far into, growling at the idea of another person in his lap. He pokes at my side," Not what I meant. My best friend is a werewolf. Having seen him howl at the moon like an idiot will make you less afraid of big dogs."

I scoff," Big dogs, shut up."

"I hope you are aware you are a big dog. A big dog that cried in my lap, would you be so kind as to explain that one," he asks. I stiffen, remembering why I was acting a fool to begin with. My teeth pinch at my lip as the stress overwhelms me.

"Hey," he snaps," relax. I'm just trying to figure out something that been bothering me since we met. My friend tried to explain it but I rather hear it from you."

I glare up at him," What do you know?" I begin to sit up, clenching his jacket to me, but he keeps me down.

"Well, I think I can answer with a question," he starts cryptically," am I your mate?"

I choke on my breath. It seems he knows enough.

"Yes," I hold my breath.

"Oh."

"oh?"

"Yes, oh," he teases," as in that answers a lot of things then."

"Like what?"

"Like how even when you call me four-eyed Steve Buscemi, I still pop a boner," he laughs. I find myself covering my mouth while chuckling.

"What," I nearly shout.

"Every time you are around my body lights up, it's insane. Like, I'm a teenager but I feel as an 18 y/o that I would be mostly past instant erections. Though even when you insult my interest and hobbies I still want nothing more than kiss you," he beams down at me. His smile is illuminating.

"Is that right," I find myself teasing.

"Yes, and it was startling to want you so bad though you were being…rude-"

"You can say bitch, I'm aware of what I was being."

He sighs," Yea, you were a bitch. That being said, my main question is why? If I was to be your mate, why were you so mean to me?"

"Cause I'm stupid," I wince," lots of bullshit."

"Like what," he pushes," I really gotta know what's wrong here. My buddy tried to explain this to me and I can't really wrap my head around it. Like if we are meant to be complementary to each other then why are you so mean? I didn't do anything to you so I can't even begin to fathom why you would bully your mate." his tone breaks the comforting air he brought, switching the setting to confrontational. It seems I may have been right, he has some feelings about this. It sets the ache in my chest to high gear, grinding my lungs up as my heart squeezes.

"I'm sorry," I sit up, pressing his jacket close to my chest. I want to bring the fabric to my nose and breath in his warming scent. Now isn't the time. I rest on my knees, not being able to hold eye contact for longer than mere seconds.

"Was I not good enough," he asks timidly," Did you not like what you saw?"

I swallow hard," at the time."

Lance sighs," so you don't want me?"

I shoot forward, holding out a hand," No! well… I didn't, before. Now it's different."

"Now it's different," he scowls," You can just decide these things like that? One opinion one minute then another later? I'm not someone to be toyed with, I have feelings."

"I know! It wasn't going to be like that, I was just being an idiot to begin with," I answer quickly. The stress piles on, falling heavily on my back. I wince when my nails dig through his jacket into my chest. I faintly notice the hairs on my hand thickening. "I'm so sorry, Lance. I was being ridiculous and completely unfair. Please don't be mad," I whimper. My chest aches, my skin burns, my eyes feel heavy. It seems only fitting to wallow in this for the time being.

"Hey," Lance leans forward," Let's calm down, ok? It's easier to explain a half-naked woman over a large werewolf."

I take a few breaths, shaking as each exhale. "I don't think I can."

"Come on, babe, take deep breaths," he pets on my back. I collapse at the affection, whimpering in his lap again like a beaten dog.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't fair to you," I cry against his chest," I was hateful and mean about something I couldn't control. You are enough, you are worthy. I'm the one who shouldn't get a chance, shouldn't be enough for you. God, you were so nice to everyone and caring. I judged you at face value, I'm so shallow. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

Lance sat quietly while I whined and wailed against him. I have never felt more undeserving of such an intimacy, a luxury to be held and cared for. He should leave, turn, and never look back at the sad-sack wailing over him. It would be fitting, to be left behind like how I wanted to leave him. I can't comprehend why he would still be here now. Fuck, I don't deserve him.

Lance held me close, letting me fill out another pity fest. He kept quiet, just stroking over my head.

"You know, as mad as I should be I'm not that angry," he chuckles," I know I should be after hearing my mate thought I wasn't good enough but I can't bring myself to care. Hearing and seeing you beat yourself up about it feels like enough. Though I hate seeing you so distraught, even if you did say Warhammer was dumb." I huff, not believing he could find humor at a time like this. His words still settle me, bringing a sense of calm to the storm.

I sit out of his hold, looking over him. He gives a friendly smile, testing the waters a bit as I try to read him. He shouldn't be so forgiving. I surely haven't earned it. Wailing into his chest and taking all the comfort he gives me is definitely not the path to redemption. I am being selfish in taking what he gives me with his open and kind heart.

"Don't," I say.

"Don't?"

"Don't forgive me, not so easily at least," I clench his jacket," I haven't earned it. I have to earn that."

He scoffs," No you don't. it's ok, really."

"No, it's not," I nearly shout," I literally didn't believe you were enough. I thought you were some boy compared to the man I wanted. I wanted some stereotypical macho man with big muscles and a beard. Instead, I got paired with a lanky lad who can't even catch a basketball. I saw you as weak, some human who would weigh me down."

"But, you don't believe that now," he asks hopefully. The guarding wince of his shoulders makes mine fall.

"Of course not. I think you're charming and sweet. You have the biggest heart of anyone I have ever met, taking care of nearly everyone in our grade and then some. You tutor anyone who needs help, you lend an ear to anyone struggling, you let me cry on you though I was nothing but mean to you," I blink back tears," I don't deserve you. You are too sweet and smart for someone like me who thought you weren't enough. I'm the one who isn't enough. Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I can't imagine how confusing it must have been to be drawn to me and rejected by me. Lance, i-"

I startle at the hands cradling my face then the lips pressing against mine. I stare ahead wide-eyed, confused above all else. Lance doesn't part just yet, carding his fingers through my hair as gentle as possible. Not looking a gift horse in the mouth I react. Reaching up and finally feeling his soft strands gliding over my knuckles while sucking on his lip.

Lance pulls back first, leaving me to awkwardly trail after him. He chuckles as I lean back, shifting his jacket up to my neck.

"I never got to shut someone up with a kiss before, I'd have to say it makes me feel a little powerful to see you so flustered," he teases.

I hide my face in his jacket," Shut up."

"Not yet," he grabs my hands. He lowers the jacket to my neck then cups my cheeks," I think it's my turn to talk?"

I nod.

"Ever since I first saw you I have been nothing but confused. I don't care for being so conflicted over some girl, you made my world tilt a bit. Now that I have all the pieces I can confidently say that I still like you and want to give this a try. What you did hurt, but I get it. Your world tilted a bit too, I can understand how that can make someone a bit angry or scared. I mean I was a mess for a while till my buddy explained it. So I say I forgive you because now I know what it all means and I know you will make it up to me. Like going out this weekend with my buddy and me to a movie. Though I'm sure you will definitely learn your lesson after my friend gives you a talking. I can't stop him and neither can you so it's best we get it out of the way," he smiles," sound like a plan?"

I stare at lance for a moment. I felt I had a plan somewhere in the middle of this conversation. Everything was out in the open and I planned to win him over, dealing with the reprimands of my transgressions before really seeing where this will go. Now everything is sitting at an angle, confusing and wrong. I truly do not deserve him.

But I can work on that.

"Friday then," I ask.

"Friday is perfect."


End file.
